


Remembrance of a Weeping Queen (Rosemary and Rue Remix)

by victoria_p (musesfool)



Category: Firefly
Genre: Community: remixredux05, First Kiss, Gen, Kissing, Remix
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-03-29
Updated: 2005-03-29
Packaged: 2017-11-23 17:11:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/624575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/musesfool/pseuds/victoria_p
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>River would like to remember.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Remembrance of a Weeping Queen (Rosemary and Rue Remix)

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Nifra and Bethy for looking it over. Title from _Richard II_ , remix title from _The Winter's Tale_. Mandarin from TaraLJC's posts. All errors are mine. Written as a very last minute pinch hit remix of inalasahl’s Untitled Drabble #2.

Mal tastes of whiskey and metal when River kisses him, and he scrambles away, talking in a low voice like he's gentling a horse, but she can hear the real thread of fear beneath it -- fear of her, of what the others will think if they see her kiss him, fear that he might like it, fear of what it might mean if he did.

 _That's not right_ , she thinks, guided by the wisp of memory she's chasing. _Kissing doesn't taste like fear._

She doesn't want fear, she doesn't like the taste, and she skips away, pretending not to hear his shuddering sigh of relief, though they both know she does.

*

Jayne's lips are chapped and he tastes of anger when River kisses him, hard and sour, like milk that's turned. He jerks away from her, scrubbing at his lips. " _Hâo le_ , you gorram crazy bitch," he says, stalking out of the kitchen, muttering curses under his breath.

 _That's not right_ , she thinks. _Kissing shouldn't taste like anger._ And she feels a little sad for Jayne, that so many of the kisses he's known have.

*

Inara tastes of green tea and lipstick when River kisses her, the soft brush of lip on lip like silk against her skin.

"River, what are you doing?" Inara asks, gently pushing River's hair behind one of her ears. Inara is soft and smells of night-blooming jasmine and rice powder, and for a moment, if River closes her eyes and rests her face against Inara's neck, she can pretend she is hugging her mother.

"Kissing," River says. "Kissing is-- Simon and Kaylee--"

"Oh, _mèimei_ , they're just--"

"I _want_ ," River says before Inara can finish. "I want to _remember_." Though the memory isn't the only thing River wants, it's the only one she can articulate right now. Simon and Kaylee are kissing and touching in Simon's bunk, and _want_ vibrates off them the way light reflects off water, shining out and heating her skin like the sun. And she thinks maybe she had that once, or wanted it once, or knew what it _was_ , before she knew everything and nothing all at once.

"Shh." Inara wraps her arms around River and River lets herself relax in the embrace.

Companions know about _want_ , she thinks, in ways most people never do.

*

River tries Zoe next, because Wash likes kissing her so much, she must know how to do it right. A surprise attack on the bridge, and yes, Zoe tastes like Wash and dinner and _strength_. This is what River wants, but Zoe's hands are like vises on her arms, and her voice is a knife when she calls out, "Simon! Come here and get River off the bridge."

"Come on," Wash starts but Zoe cuts him off ruthlessly.

" _Zhùzuî_ ," she snaps. "None of your gorram nonsense now." And Wash shuts up, because he loves Zoe, and Zoe doesn't find this funny at all. Neither does River.

River skips away, but she knows she's on the right path, because Zoe also tastes of _love_ and maybe that's what River's chasing.

*

Simon's lips taste of blood and regret when River kisses him and she thinks, _That's wrong, they should taste of sun and grass and sweetness._

His eyes flutter open and he says, " _Mèimei?_ What are you--"

She cuts him off with another press of her lips, and since his mouth is open, she breathes him in -- _Simon-taste_ and _Simon-air_ and _homehomehome_ and _why can't I fix you?_ flowing into her mouth ( _throat, trachea, bronchi; oxygen-poor blood travels to the right atrium via the inferior and superior vena cavae, then to the right ventricle_ ).

Simon's hands are smooth, elegant, clean as they push her away. "River, no," he says, and she thinks, _That's wrong -- his hands should be callused, blunt-fingered, with dirt beneath the nails. His hands should pull me close._

She closes her eyes and finally sees the first boy -- the only boy -- she ever kissed. She remembers Gideon and his dreams of traveling the 'verse. She remembers their secret friendship, how she'd hugged it close to her heart, worried that if her parents knew, they'd fire his family. The gardener's son and the rich man's daughter. It was like something out of the romances her mother never allowed her to read, but which Kaylee devours whenever she can, though she denies it when River asks to read them too.

River knows romance is something she'll never have now, that whatever dreams she may have shared with Gideon ( _we'll have a house and three kids, and maybe some dogs_ ) are lost to her. All she has left is Simon, and Serenity, and kisses that taste like regret.

end


End file.
